


I'd Give the World (For An Hour In Your Arms)

by MissCricket



Series: Carver Hawke Smut Stories [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Almost Lost You, Blood Magic (Dragon Age), Grey Wardens, I Love You, M/M, Warden Carver Hawke, overwhelming feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:29:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27627490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissCricket/pseuds/MissCricket
Summary: Wardens Carver Hawke and Alistair Theirin are captured by a Blood Mage. Feelings abound.
Relationships: Alistair/Carver Hawke
Series: Carver Hawke Smut Stories [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1990078
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	I'd Give the World (For An Hour In Your Arms)

Alistair came to with a groan.

The first thing he noticed was the sharp metallic taste of blood on his tongue, which was never a good sign, frankly, and then as he shifted he winced as pain shot through his skull.

“Ah look! Your companion awakens.”

The voice was unfamiliar, and Alistair slowly cracked his eyes open with another wince. 

Slowly the world swum back into focus, and Alistair felt his stomach drop.

They were in a cave, but that wasn’t the interesting bit. No what had caught the Warden’s attention was the mage standing nearby, knife in his hands and blood dripping onto the sandy floor. 

Beside him, Carver stood, and his usually bright eyes were unfocused, glassy, a tendril of blood dribbling from his ear.

He looked almost like a corpse, pale and lifeless.

“What have you-?”

The mage chuckled wickedly, and reached up to pat Carver’s pale bloodless cheek.

“So much better this way, isn’t he?” 

Carver didn’t even blink and Alistair struggled to sit up, alarmed by his companion's silence and stillness.

“What have you _done_ to him?”

The Blood Mage grinned, a too wide grimace that made his eyes look even wilder, “I made him better.” he turned to look at Carver and ran a finger down his jaw, “No more shame, no more anxiety, no more crushing worries about not being good enough.” he chuckled, continuing to caress along Carver’s strong jaw, “Took a while to get in there...his mind resisted me a lot longer than most do...”

Pain blossomed under Alistair’s breastbone, a terrible ache at the sight of his dear friend reduced to a shell, leashed to a blood mage’s will. 

“No…”

“Oh yes.” the mage cackled slightly, grinning, “Stubborn man. I had to practically bash his head in with a magical rock..I don’t mean literally of course. And even then he fought me…”

“You won’t get away with this. You won’t get what you want...” he grunted, rolling onto his back weakly as his stomach seethed.

“I won’t get what I want?” the Mage parrotted back, “Why I want what any Mage wants. Freedom. Power.”

“You won’t get it,” Alistair mumbled back, pretending to be groggier than he was as his eyes scanned the cave, “If you don’t let us go...you’ll be sorry...”

“Ah a joker.” the Mage tossed his blond head, “I appreciate that. It makes things...so much more amusing yes? Very well...what I want right now, is to drain you both of your life so I have enough power to deal with any Wardens that come after me. And then I’m heading south.”

Alistair winced and tried to get up, only for the Mage to snap a hand towards him. Blood red ropes of magic lashed around his body, before slowly they slid away and the Mage scowled.

“You Wardens are troublesome creatures.” he snarled, and his hands flared, a brighter, uglier red. 

The ropes returned and Alistair gasped as he was hauled to his feet, chest being crushed by the vice like grip.

“Now...let’s see. Which of you should I drain first…?” The mage tapped his lips, “You’re both rather pretty...like the sun and the moon…”

“Leave him alone.” Alistair groaned softly, “Let him go...and I’ll help you get away to freedom.”

“You!?” the Mage cackled, “What can you do…?”

Alistair swallowed.

Although he knew Carver’s pride would be stung at invoking Carver’s brother, he’d do anything if it meant that Carver would be released.

“I know the Champion of Kirkwall. He’s a Mage...he has contacts…he’d do anything if you didn’t hurt that Warden...”

“Lies!” the Mage shrieked, “Let me show you how I deal with liars!”

He curled his fist and Alistair thrashed in his hold as Carver’s blank face crumpled with pain, more blood dribbling out of his ears.

“That’s better…”

“You...maleficar....” Alistair gasped, “I won’t let you...hurt…”

“Oh little Warden.” the Mage cackled and strolled over to him, crooking a finger to make Carver follow, “No one can stop me hurting you.”

And the bands around his chest tightened, slowly crushing him until he felt his ribs snap and crumble.

Alistair screamed.

Through the haze of pain he saw Carver’s wonderful blue eyes suddenly flare with fire, before suddenly he was falling to the cave floor once more, the pain of the impact making him black out a little, as the Blood mage shrieked.

Alistair groaned and slowly rolled over again, gasping at the sight of Carver viciously yanking his blade from the body of the writhing blood Mage.

“You!” The mage coughed up blood as he tried to crawl away, whimpering.

Carver slowly prowled towards him, and to Alistair’s pain addled mind, he thought Carver had never looked more beautiful, eyes flashing with fury, jaw clenched, black hair swept back as he buried his blade deep in the body of the doomed blood mage.

“You attacked the wrong Wardens.” Carver Hawke growled, before he kicked the lifeless body off his blade.

“You’re alright…” he whispered, and his companion hurried to kneel beside him, cradling his head in his lap, “I thought…”

“Shhh,” Carver’s large hand smoothed through Alistair’s golden hair, “It’s okay...I’ve got you.”

Alistair reached up, fingers catching a loose tendril of silky ebony hair. 

“I thought...thought I’d lost you.”

“Yeah right.” Carver grinned down at him, but there was a tightness to the smile that told Alistair just how bad the damage was, “I’m hard to get rid of once I latch on, you should know that by now.”

Alistair smiled weakly, grey beginning to encroach the sides of his vision, “I would have done anything…” he breathed and Carver looked down at him, suddenly looking very young, and very afraid, “Anything...if it had meant you lived…”

“Alistair.” Carver’s voice broke a little on his name and then Carver’s large hand is cradling his head firmly, “We’ve got to get you back to the Keep.”

“I won’t survive long enough…” Alistair breathed back, feeling the wet drag of his breath and knowing that his shattered ribs have done too much damage inside. “The Keep is too far...and horseback would kill me...even if we had a horse…”

“Come on…” Carver insisted, dragging him up.

The world flashed white with pain and Alistair heard himself screaming again.

When he can look around he’s being half carried, half dragged by a desperate and sheet white Carver.

“Carver please...stop…”

“I’m not just letting you die…”

“I don’t want my last moments….”

“You’re not allowed to have a bloody last moment!” Carver insisted, voice echoing through the cave with anger, “Not until you have the Calling and then we’re going together!”

Alistair gaped up at him, even as the world began to fade out again.

“Carver…”

“I won’t give up…” Carver insisted, doggedly dragging him out. The sun hit his face, but he could barely feel it, “I won’t let you die…please Alistair...I’m begging you...hold on.”

Alistair smiled weakly, “Has anyone ever told you you’re cute when you beg?”

Carver tugged him up and he got a flash of blue eyes filled with tears and a hard jaw clenched to stop them from falling.

“I...I love you…” Alistair breathed, and promptly passed out.

* * *

When he awoke, he was surprised, as he’d been certain he’d never wake up again. 

He looked over to his bedside and took in the haggard and unimpressed face of Ephena Cousland.

“Shit…”

“Shit is right.” the woman growled, “If you weren’t on bed rest I would be beating the snot out of you right now.”

“Feena…”

“Don’t you Feena me!” her voice rose in fury, “You had orders to patrol the road, to check for bandits and Darkspawn. And you just had to go hunting a Blood Mage.

“He was terrorising the villages…” 

“You should have taken reinforcements!” She shouted at him, and he winced, “Two Wardens against a fucking desperate Blood Mage!”

“I thought…”

“Oh I know what you thought!” Ephena flailed a furious hand, “You thought, ‘I’m an ex Templar, I can handle any mage’”

Alistair winced, “Carver told you that?”

“Of course he did!” Ephena seethed, “The boy tried to resign his place in the Wardens, he felt so guilty he went along with you.”

Alistair winced, again, “It wasn’t his fault...I threatened to go alone if he was scared.”

Ephena made a noise rather like an irate tea kettle.

* * *

Nathaniel was the one to quietly tell him the story of a desperate Carver Hawke staggering out of the bushes, dragging his almost dead comrade out into the main road, where he was lucky enough to encounter a trade caravan. 

They’d hurried him back to Vigil’s Keep where Anders and Eilonwy had drained themselves completely of healing magic to save his life. 

He gets a steady stream of visitors.

Anders, who checks him over, and then lectures him on the dangers of blood magic but not magic magic.

Eilonwy who also examines him and then bursts into happy tears as she finds him healing well.

Oghren who sneaks him wine and beer from the cellars.

Velanna who informed him she’s glad he didn’t end up as crow carrion.

Even Fenris, Anders and Carver’s surly elf friend visited and sat with him quietly.

It’s this last guest that tells him that Carver left on another mission shortly after he got back. One to Kirkwall.

One that could only be performed by him.

But it meant that Alistair had a long time to agonise over what he’d told his friend. The secret he had shared when he’d been so sure he would die.

_“I love you…”_

He did love Carver, loved his strength, and his stubbornness, loved his loyalty and his determination. He loved his little huffs of laughter, loved his bark of unrestrained amusement. He loved his hands, so strong and capable to wreak terrible violence, but also so gentle and caring to those he cared for.

_“I love you…”_

He meant it.

But he could only hope that when Carver returned...it wouldn’t ruin everything.

* * *

He was in the training yards when Carver returned.

It was about 2 months after the incident off the great northern road, and he hadn’t seen Carver since that last desperate glance, when the world was fading around him and all he could think was...I have to tell him.

So when he turned around and saw the dark haired man stride around the side of the Keep, he wondered if he was dreaming.

“Carver!”

“Alistair.” Carver greeted, striding towards him swiftly until suddenly Alistair found himself pressed gently back against the wall of the Keep, sandwiched between it and the warm bulk of the other man.

“Carv-mmmm.” he began, before Carver’s warm lips cut the rest of his name off.

Kissing Carver was brilliant. He took charge instantly, hand cradling the back of Alistair’s head as his soft, warm lips moved over his. He tasted warm, like bread and cheese and sweetness, and Alistair groaned into it, his own hands rising to grasp him close in return.

“Maker’s breath Alistair.” Carver breathed against his lips, kissing him again and again, “Maker...I love you too you complete…” 

Alistair crushed him close, desperate to taste more of Carver’s sweet mouth and the two of them clung together.

Somehow they fell into a rutting pattern, the pair of them moving together, the drag of their bodies together through their breeches making a delicious friction.

Neither of them stopped kissing the other, like they were afraid if they stopped that this wouldn’t be real.

“I thought…I thought I’d never…” Carver gasped against his lips, a broken little hitch to his voice as they rutted, “Maker...Alistair...I love you.”

Alistair moaned, nails digging into Carver’s scalp as their lips dragged together again, parted and wet and desperate, panting breaths captured by each other. One breath, one body…

It didn’t take long for them to shudder together, reaching their pleasure at the same moment, and slumping into each other, Carver’s soft silky hair tickling Alistair’s neck.

They stayed where they were for long moments, unable to separate from one another, as their breaths slowly evened out, and then Carver slowly drew back, making a face at the cooling stickiness in his pants. Alistair echoed his expression, and reached up to cradle his jaw in his large hand.

“Carver…”

Those blue eyes softened and Carver’s hands lifted again to cradle Alistair's jaw and neck, “I love you too. Of course. How could I not?”

Alistair smiled.

Then his eyes glanced over Carver’s shoulder, and he felt his heart drop.

“Um…”

“What?” Carver’s eyes ran over his face, and an expression of concern flitted over it, “Did you change your mind…? I…”

“No! Never...but...um…” Alistair nodded behind him.

Carver turned and groaned as he took in their audience.

Anders wiggled his eyebrows at them as Fenris smirked faintly. Nathaniel had his head buried in his hand while Ephena beamed at them.

“Shit…” Carver breathed, and turned back to Alistair, “How much do you think they…?”

“All of it!” Ephena called over, and Carver closed his eyes with a laugh. “Alistair I had no idea you liked it so public.”

Both of them laughed at that, but sheepishly headed over to their friends and fellow Wardens.

Their fingers were linked together.

And that was how they stayed, until the end, deep in the Deep Roads, far from the sunshine and laughter of that morning long ago.

**Author's Note:**

> And if YOU want more Carver smut, you can request a pairing for one of the prompts located at.
> 
> https://misscricket.tumblr.com/post/633177274518241280/carver-smut-give-me-pairings


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